


The Fool who stole the Sun

by LeoTheCloudKat



Category: Homestuck
Genre: (no non-con), Additional Tags to Be Added, Ancient Greece AU, Consensual Servitude, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M, POV Alternating, Slow Burn, Tarot Cards, eventual NSFW
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:28:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27497215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeoTheCloudKat/pseuds/LeoTheCloudKat
Summary: Jake doesn’t know how he managed to get so close to the sun without getting burned. Dirk doesn’t know why Jake keeps coming so close, and keeps pushing him away.Jake English and Jade Harley lived together with their grandparents, up on the side of a cliff with the sea to the right, the town behind, and the forest to the left. Their grandfather died when they were young, leaving their grandmother to take care of them, but she dies the year that the plague sweeps in, leaving their neighbors to leave them by themselves and Jade to get sick. Jake turns to drastic measures, and gets caught up in something he’d never dreamed of.
Relationships: Jake English/Dirk Strider
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	1. The Fool, 7 of Swords

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter will be named after two tarot cards with the meaning of the card revolving around the chapter! It’s up to interpretation, but the meanings usually connect to the person whose POV it is in each chapter’s beginning. Enjoy!

A storm rolls in from the sea as Jake English thinks over his choices, the electricity in the air physically palpable as the waves crash against the cliff below where he stands. It’s been almost two years since a plague swept through the village just down the way of the lighthouse where he and his sister live, taking several of their neighbors and their grandmother with it. Jade, bless her heart, went to help out when the hospitals struggled, but Jake stayed home to tend to their garden and keep the lighthouse in working order. He should have asked her to stay with him, he should have known that so much exposure would get to her, he should have, should have…

There isn’t much he can do now, unless he makes a decision that could get him in much more trouble than it’s worth. He could go the safer route and stay home to tend to Jade, risking catching the plague himself. Or, he could make the four days’ journey towards where the god of the sun’s cattle graze- the god of warmth, of scorching heat, of medicine, and the blessed bovine said to cure any illness from that who eats it. He could make the journey in half the time if he had a ride, but he’d rather not have to take a horse and risk leaving hoofprints.

“You’ve already made up your mind, huh?” Jade asks when he steps inside just as the rain starts to pick up, her voice as rough as their grandmother’s had been the week before she passed. Jake only nods, his voice failing him as he takes her hand. “Good luck, then, and don’t be long. And bring me back some new flowers you find if you have the time!” She grins, her hands fidgeting with some kind of wiring project. Without her, Jake would have no idea how to keep the lighthouse alive, much less fix it when a fuse fizzles out. He swallows around the lump in his throat and leaves her be, deciding to saddle up despite the fact that he’s sure he’ll be caught if he does leave prints to follow. 

He really shouldn't be riding in the storm. He may have a nice raincoat to protect his bag and his face from getting wet, but the inevitable muddy spots that will muddle up the path might be a hindrance to the horse. It would be worse if he went on foot, he tells himself, and steadies his bag on the back of the saddle as he rides down the cobbled path into town. Everyone else in town is inside, barricading from the slippery streets and torrential rain, and if Jake sees eyes peering out of windows out towards him, he pretends he simply does not see them. It would break his heart to see any pitying glances this early, too much to think about at the moment. 

A clap of thunder startles him, flicking the reigns harder as he finally rides out of the limits of the town and past the eyes he’s trying to pretend don’t exist. The god of the sun has a brother that presides over the moon- the gentler light, the supposedly more reasonable one that is more musical than fight-driven like his brother. Two different approaches to ruling, and two very different stances on mortals like Jake.

The sun god is not known for being merciful. If anything, really, he may as well be one of the cruellest kings that Jake has heard of so far. “ _ Stone-heart _ ,” he murmurs, knowing full well why no one lives anywhere near the sun god’s realm. People are so afraid of the desert that he lives in, the cracked and dry earth where nothing roams for miles, rumors spread far and wide and as terrifying as they are (probably) false. It’s a good thing that the rain is here now, because he’s sure that he’ll miss the cooling downpour once he gets there. It’s said that the god of the sun rides in a flaming chariot across the sky during the day, which would mean that if Jake intends to slay a cow and take the meat, he would need to do it in broad daylight. 

By the time the night rolls around and the storm tapers off, Jake had ceaselessly driven his horse and himself to exhaustion, booking a short night at a half-empty inn along the way. He makes sure to feed and brush his poor horse before going up to his room to rest, tossing and turning restlessly in the unfamiliar bed below him. The sun rises in the distance all too quickly, waking Jake from his restless sleep, and he buys more food for the journey before he sets off again, yawning.

“Sorry, Maplehoof, I don’t mean to be cruel,” he murmurs, petting her mane as they ride down the winding dirt roads and keep an eye on the sun. The knowledge that he will most definitely be found out and punished for this as well as the guilt for doing such a dirty act gnaws at him, squeezing at his heart and making him worry at his lip until it bleeds. He tries to assure himself that it will all be alright in the end- Jade can certainly take care of everything by herself once she recovers, and she certainly doesn’t need his help in the upkeep of the lighthouse, though it will be a bit harder to tend to the garden alone. But at least she will be alive, he assures himself.

Jake has several flasks of water to take with him into the desert, knowing that it’s very unlikely to run into a spring this far into divine territory that isn’t full of nymphs- and he’d rather not take time negotiating with them for clean water. He can already feel the change in scenery when his horse’s steps become heavier, the air dry and dusty. He pulls a bandana from his bag and ties it around his face just in case, feeling more and more like he has to get into the character of a thief as he rides towards the buildings in the distance. He’d assumed that the sacred cows would just be kept in a sacred barn or something similar, but the closer he gets, the more worried he is about his own safety as well as his horse’s. 

It’s a massive pasture surrounded by a high fence, clearly electrified with “NO TRESPASSING” signs meticulously spaced along the thick chain link. A barn does sit within the fence, off in the distance, and even further than that- if he squints- he can barely make out the shape of… it could be either a farm house surrounded by army barracks or some kind of strange apartment setup with a cozy- looking house in the center of it. That must be the house of the sun god. The ground beneath his feet cracks loudly as he dismounts, wincing at the sound and glancing quickly around for any guards that may be passing by. Nothing, for now. 

Jake, thanking his own wit and sending a prayer up to the god of the sky for good luck, straps on the gloves he’d gotten as a gift from a suitor he sadly had to turn away, murmuring thanks for the gift as he flexes his fingers under the tough fabric. They’re supposedly made from the leathery skin of one of the sky god’s birds of prey, a covetous gift that nullifies electricity and makes it very nice to work with open circuitry and wiring. Jake was never very good with wiring, and it may have been Jade who needed these the most, but now he thanks the stars above for such a convenient gift. There is a break in the fence for a gate, and Jake quietly tells Maplehoof to stay where she is as he tentatively lays his hands against the electrified fence, testing. 

A nasty cracking sound hisses against his hands as he jolts back, frightened, but otherwise unharmed. It’s just his luck that a cow is passing by just as he opens the gate, a big fluffy horned thing that lows at him as he approaches. “I’m so sorry for this,” he murmurs, petting the poor thing before he slips his knife out of his belt and gets to work, trying to be as fast as he can.

* * *

Being the god of the literal sun is a lot of fucking work. Driving a flaming chariot across the sky only to pass Dave on his way back down, hardly getting to spend time with his family, and having to harp on people to get to work when he comes back before he can  _ finally  _ rest- only to have to do it all over again, day after day for ages. It’s no wonder he’s so sour, really, but he’d rather people fear him than pity him. Pity doesn’t help for jack shit, pity doesn’t keep people working. Pity doesn’t drive the damn chariot across the sky. 

If he had someone else to do it for him, he’d let go of the reigns in a heartbeat and do what he actually wants- creation. Like every other god, life is somewhere within their respective wheelhouses, but Dirk prefers nearly non-sentient creatures. Towering golems, tiny flaming salamanders that curl up in his lap and at his feet, bronze automatons, you name it. The best offering he’d ever gotten from a mortal was fairly recent- an elderly woman who lives not too far from his farm, on the cliff by the sea, offered him an automaton emblazoned with his very own symbol. A gorgeous piece of work that he treasures and spars with still, and he was sad to see her go when she died of the plague.

The half-Harley lighthouse is home to her two grandchildren, he thinks, wondering if they’re alright. It’s none of his business and he doesn’t care enough to send someone to check, but maybe he can offer a small blessing their way for their grandmother’s kindness and recent passing a year ago. Plague immunity, maybe, since that seems to be all people are praying for these days. Money, power, plague immunity, and for crops not to wither under the sun are some of the top things he gets asked for. Not that he’s ever granted anyone anything they asked- at least, not publicly. Small, under-the-table favors are more his thing. Popularity is not- that’s Dave’s thing.

Driving the chariot is incredibly boring, anyways. He might pass John once or twice, moving clouds to certain places and stirring up storms, but they hardly ever talk. John might be intimidated by him, actually. Well, whatever, it’s not like he actually cares what people think about him, reaching down and moving his hand around under the seat of his chariot in search of his scrying bowl. Talking to someone or checking in on the creatures he’s supposed to be taking care of can at the very least entertain him as he does his mind-numbingly boring task of driving the sun across the sky.

“Roxy Lalonde,” he calls, one hand on the reins as he sets the bowl in his lap, the oil within shifting to different shades of black and purple. A nice gift from Rose, if not a little flashy. “Roxy,” he calls out again, a little irritated this time. “I know you’re not busy. All you do is party and sit around with Calliope making mortals fall in love.”

“Why just mortals, baby? The two of us visit more than just human peeps!” Roxy’s voice sounds from the bowl, a little tinny and disoriented but otherwise clear. “How's chariot riding going? Boring as ever?”

“You know it. More than anything, I’d like to give the reins over to someone who’s actually going to like doing this shit every day and work on my own shit,” Dirk grouses, his grumpy facade cracking under Roxy’s laughter. It’s always nice to hear from her, even if she is the god of partying and alcohol. He’s never really been one for partying, but he also doesn’t have time for that kind of thing. “You should come and visit sometime. Everyone misses you,” he murmurs, trying not to sound needy, but Roxy grins up at him anyways.

“Awh, Dirky, I know you get lonely up there by yourself, but even if I did visit you’d be working or sleepin’! Listen, your handmaidens and servants can do all the work they want down at that farm of yours for you to give you time to chill, but what you really need is a date. A hot piece of ass!” Dirk glances down at the scrying bowl to roll his eyes, Roxy wiggling her eyebrows at him in return. “Think about it, babe. Callie told me that somebody’s gonna steal your heart sometime soon, so be on the lookout for somebody hot.”

“Thanks,” he replies, dryly, “I’ll do just that, from miles up in the sky. Where no one can see me. Anyways, I’ve got about an hour before I can go home, so… if you’d really like to hang out, it’s almost winter, so. You know. Just say the word and I’ll have someone prepare a room for you.” Roxy’s sigh melts into the whistling air around him, clearly wistful about something or another.

“Thanks, I’ll see if I can’t whip up some fun at your place tomorrow, if you don’t cancel on me. Also, Rose told me to tell you to be nicer to people, so there’s that. Bye now! Callie’s calling,” she laughs, and Dirk’s heart aches, and the bowl settles calmly once more.

Going home after every day is always nice, especially when he can be left alone and go right to his house (which only his family & two trusted ‘consorts’ can enter) to work on his own personal stuff. However, being greeted by a thousand fearful, worried faces is never a good sign. Especially when he finds out that someone killed one of his sacred creatures at the edge of the field and took off without being seen. Now that’s a good way to put him in a very bad mood  _ very _ fast.

* * *

Jake didn’t take all of the meat- he’d never be able to carry it all. He carefully salted and wrapped what pieces he did take, storing them deep in his bag and riding away as fast as he can make his horse go. He doesn’t even stop to rest this time, knowing that he could very well be chased all the way home, and eventually makes it back into town after nearly 23 straight hours of riding. To keep it brief, he is  _ exhausted _ , dropping poor miss Maplehoof off at a place where she can get bathed and taken care of as he drags himself up towards the lighthouse. The sun is just coming up as he steps through the door and locks it behind him, checking in on Jade as she sleeps before he heads to the kitchen to prepare the meat.

It smells incredible, which is probably a good thing because it truly is divine meat. As much as he would like to have a bite of such a good cut of steak, it’d be better if he saved any other pieces in the freezer just in case Jade needs it again. He waits until Jade wakes up and walks into the kitchen, swathed in her blankets and looking like death, to present the meal to her. She gives him a knowing look but doesn’t say anything, just sitting down across from him at their dining table.

“I know,” Jake murmurs, wringing his hands as she eats, “I know. I really do, trust me. But I can’t bear to lose you too. Not like this, not so soon.”

“And what about me?” Jade sighs, pointing her fork at him, her tone accusatory despite how rough her voice had gone. “What will happen once I lose  _ you? _ I’m sure you think you can get away with it scot-free, Jake, but that’s not going to happen. You’ll get caught, and you’ll be killed, and I’ll be all alone again.” Jake sniffles and buries his face in his sleeve, the both of them silently sitting together in the dining room as the sun rises ever higher. “I’ll miss you, you stupid idiot, but I’m not going to pull you out of Tartarus once you get thrown in. You might even be killed by the people down in town if they knew what you’d done.”

“I know,” he croaks out, hiccuping through tears, “but I can’t lose you too. I  _ can’t. _ I’m stupid and selfish and I  _ know _ , but at least you won’t die of the plague. That’s all I want. Not you too.” Jade slides her plate towards him, a steely look on her face as she pokes him with her fork. 

“And I won’t let you die of the plague either, stupid. Eat the rest of it, okay? At the very least, neither of us will die of any kind of disease.” Jake nods, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat, and picks up the fork. He hesitates as he cuts a piece off of what’s left, guilt and shame making his stomach turn before he takes a bite. It’s just as good as he’d thought it would be and better, literal heavenly meat that he finishes off before standing up and washing the dishes. 

As he fills the sink with hot, soapy water, he takes a minute to drink in the pleasant, calm domesticity that he has now, wishing that he’d be able to appreciate it longer before they find him. The ocean is visible outside of the window just past the cliff’s edge, waves crashing against the rocks and spraying up over the side. The beach is just a twelve minute walk down the right side of the cliff, where they’d played together as kids and spent so much time fishing. The odd knick-knacks, skulls, rocks, and shells in jars that fill the shelves of his room will be dearly missed, as will the gentle comfort of his lamp that he’d carefully crafted to shine stars across his ceiling at night. He’s going to miss the lighthouse so much, but at least he can take a moment to appreciate it all.

That is, before a firm knock on the door startles him out of his daydreaming, shooting a terrified glance over to Jade as she dismounts her rifle from the wall. Someone has come to visit, and Jake runs upstairs to hide. It’s a very long flight of stairs up to the top of the lighthouse, but it has an excellent view. As well as a view of the bottom of the lighthouse and the welcome mat far below, which Jake plans to sneak a peek of when he gets all the way to the top. He pokes his head out over the railing, hands gripped tight in the wrought iron as he peers over the edge towards the entrance. 

Jade smiles brightly at the strange visitor at her door, hiding the rifle behind the wood in a white-knucked grip. “I’m afraid it’s not a very good time for visitors, you see, I’ve just begun recovering from the plague. If you could come back later- a week, maybe?- that would be great, thank you!” The visitor just smiles back, their teeth unnaturally sharp and their gaze twice as much. 

“Sweetie, I’m not here for you. Do you know of anyone in this town who went an’ did a little thieving recently? Maybe stole something way out westwards where nobody usually heads? I heard about a green-eyed boy who took a stay at a hotel not too far from my friend’s farm, and came home to one of his dear cattle dead on the ground. Do you know anything about that?” Jade just shrugs and makes a noncommittal sound, pushing her glasses higher up onto her nose. 

“Sorry, ma’am, but I won’t help you. Your eyes are really pretty though!” She winks, leaning her arm against the doorframe and keeping the door nearly shut between them. Roxy just shrugs and turns her gaze upward, spying someone up at the top of the lighthouse before their head ducks back and they’re gone. 

“Thanx for the compliment baby! But gods don’t fuck around, sweetheart. Someone not as polite as me might bang down your door and take him by force, and we don’t want that, yeah? Everyone’s a little on edge and it’d be nice if we could get this all settled really quick. If you strike a deal with me, I promise that I can guarantee a softer punishment for your dumb brother. ‘Kay?” Jade glances up towards the top of the lighthouse and gives a deep, bone-weary sigh, fixing Roxy with an unamused look.

“Hit me with it. What do you want?” She sighs, letting go of the rifle which thuds against the corner of the door. “A one night stand? One of my ribs? I don’t have any gold or jewels, so don’t even think about it.” Roxy snorts, waving her hand as though she’s dismissing the thought of it all.

“Not at all! Help me throw a massive party down on the town, and I’ll convince dear Dirky not to bring the hammer down too hard on the himbo upstairs. No one in the party will catch the plague, I promise, and it’s just for one night. After that, I’ll take your brother in for a trial, and I’ll get back to you the day after it ends with the results. Capiche? Is that cool w you?” Jade takes a moment to weigh her options, now 100% sure that the person at her door is the goddess of partying, alcohol, and festivities- Roxanne Lalonde. 

“As if this day isn’t already weird enough,” Jade quips, smiling when she gets a laugh out of her. “Alright. I’m getting you to sign your word, though, just in case you black out from too much partying,” she grins as Roxy steps inside, wondering how this will all play out. It’s clear that Roxy is just as interested, and Jade considers challenging her to a poker game to bargain on just how lenient Jake’s punishment will be.

No matter how the cards are played, the chips will fall regardless. Predetermined paths all have a way of coming around no matter how many times someone tries to pull away from their fate. Rose Lalonde sits in her tower and watches everything go down, gazing into her own personal scrying bowl with a loose hand of cards in her right hand. The person across from her grins- or, as much as they can grin without skin- and lays their cards down on the table between them. The strings of fate versus the unpredictable arrows of love. Rose lays her own cards down and sighs, reaching over to shuffle the deck once more.


	2. The king of swords, reversed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The god of the sun, Dirk, finds out that someone stole from him, and demands that the thief be brought to him. He seethes and plots a harsh punishment, but his hand is swayed once he meets Jake and hears his story. Roxy convinced him to go easy on the poor boy.

* * *

Jake peeks his head over the railing once again to see the pink-haired stranger disappear indoors, worrying over Jade’s safety and his own. He knows full well that Jade can take care of herself- she’s better with a weapon than he is when facing people, and she’s fierce enough to scare off anyone who doesn’t know her- but he can’t help but worry. Taking the stairs two at a time and as quietly as he can, Jake tries to get down to the main rooms fast enough to catch what the conversation could be. 

The visitor has vibrant pink hair and curly white horns peeking out from the mess, their hooved legs crossed at the pink furred ankles as they and Jade chat over cups of tea. Jade glances over to catch Jake trying to hide behind the wall, snickering and waving him over, gesturing to a third cup on the dining table. “Come on, we’ve got a lot to talk about. They already know that you stole from the sun god, and he’s pretty rightfully pissed off about it!” Jade starts, chipper as ever. “The thing is, if I help Ms. Roxy here to throw a party tonight in town, she’ll convince sunny boy not to be too harsh on you.”

Jake hums as he takes a sip from his chipped cup, glancing over to the satyr next to him. “And I promise to keep my word. It’s even written down, see?” She smiles warmly at Jake before gesturing down towards a piece of paper between her and Jade, signed in sparkly pink pen that seems to be burned into the parchment. “So it’s no worries at all. Besides, whatever punishment he might have for you wouldn’t be that bad even if I didn’t interfere- I just want him to get some more friends, y’know? He’s so lonely nowadays, never coming to any parties and moping away in his little warehouse workplace shack thing. It’s really sad, honestly,” she sighs, putting her cheek in her hand and gazing wistfully out the window.

“All you have to do is party for a night and I won’t be tossed directly in Tartarus? That’s fine with me, where do I sign?” Jake half-jokes, fidgeting with the chipped edge of his cup as he reads over the contract that both Jade and Roxy have signed. Something, something, terms of service, one night’s worth of partying (a full 6+ hours, at no health risk to those who attend), blah blah blah, and a lightened sentence depending on what the god of the sun may choose to punish him with. It all looks fine, really, but… he can’t help but still be nervous. It’s cool that he was able to get the piece of meat for Jade and actually have some himself, but the sun god isn’t known for being lenient on punishments. Ever.

Jake still signs, though, because no matter how little lighter the punishment may be, at least it’ll be lighter than being tortured to death. “How long until I have to go and stand trial?” He asks, setting his cup down on the table, empty, so he doesn’t chip the poor china any further. “I’d like to get this over with as soon as possible, if that’s quite alright with you.” Roxy just shrugs and taps the paper with her pen, dissolving the parchment into sparks of pink light. 

“As soon as the party ends, I’ll take you with me to go and stand trial in front of my dear sib. I promise he isn’t as much of a hardass as people make him out to be, really. I promise.” She smiles, lifting a little bit of Jake’s tension from his shoulders, but hardly alleviating it. He just nods and takes the girls’ empty cups and his own to the kitchen, rinsing them out and nervously glancing at the clock hung above the sink. The party starts the minute that everyone is prepared enough and when the sun starts to set, and it ends when the sun rises, meaning that Jake will have to be prepared for another 2-4 day journey by tomorrow afternoon- when the hangovers aren’t as bad. He sighs, headed upstairs once again, and begins packing for the trip.

Jake doesn’t attend the party. He’s too caught up worrying over how furious the sun god is going to be, thinking over what he should say when asked specific questions, and wondering just how faithful Roxy will be to her word. If he knows satyrs, she’s more likely to convince the sun god to use Jake as entertainment for a long, long time rather than be tossed into hell or brutally trampled to death or eviscerated by a minotaur. How is the god of alcohol and merriment going to convince the Prince of Gods, the Stone-Hearted Sun, the Scorching Swordsman himself to go easy on  _ Jake? _ Lots of gods have fancy, intimidating titles, but the sun god certainly has some very scary ones.

The morning comes by much too quickly for Jake’s liking. A full night of partying has the town very quiet when Jake goes through the streets, filled with early morning fog, to see if he can’t trade some of his things for coin, knowing that there’s a very good chance that he won’t be returning home again. He manages to get a decent amount of money for a few of the things he feels as though he can part with, hesitantly selling a few of the skulls that he’d collected over the years as well. He bites his lip and makes his way back up to the lighthouse, heart and pockets heavy, to find Jade and Roxy waiting at the door.

“I’m ready to go,” he mumbles, shuffling his feet in the grainy sand underfoot and avoiding Roxy’s eyes. Jade smacks his arm before pulling him into a hug, Jake immediately trying not to cry as he hugs her in front of their childhood home for- presumably- the very last time. “I’ll miss you,” he chokes out, burying his face in her shoulder and sniffling as she pats his back, her voice wavering as well.

“I’ll send you a letter as soon as I get any news,” she promises, her nails digging into his arm and his back as they hold each other. Mercifully, Roxy doesn’t say a word, their gaze turned out towards the sea when the two of them part. “And Roxy promised to tell me what happens to you the day after it happens, so don’t think you can get out of sending me letters if you survive,” she jokes, pressing a shiny green block of resin into his palm. It’s maybe four inches long and two inches thick, full of some kind of thick, swirling liquid that slowly tilts back and forth and swirls around half of a sand dollar in the direction that Jake moves it. 

“Don’t drink that, it’s for good luck,” she says softly, taking the other half of the block from her pocket- a lighter green, with the other half of the sand dollar in it. “It isn’t worth anything, either, so don’t sell that too,” Jade smiles, and Jake sniffles, tucking it into his chest pocket as he reaches to give her hand a final squeeze before starting to walk down the path with Roxy. The walk is fairly quiet, thank the fucking gods, and Jake runs his thubs over the small block of resin in his pocket as they walk in silence to the edge of town. A white carriage carved with snakes around the golden wheels sits at the edge of the town’s limits, and Jake is immediately taken aback at the luxurious thing in front of him. 

“Are we going to be riding there in  _ this? _ ” He asks, incredulous as Roxy laughs and opens the door for him, gesturing for him to get inside. “Come on, pretty boy, step inside! I asked Callie to give us a ride so we don’t keep dear Dirky waiting. He’s not a very patient guy, despite what he wants you to think,” Roxy grins, stepping into the carriage after him and closing the door behind them. Someone is sitting in front of them, wearing… a wedding dress and a heavy veil, hiding everything but their clawed hands that hold the reins of the horses in front of the carriage. “She’s the goddess of matchmaking, so don’t get too intimidated,” Roxy snickers, tossing two gold coins up into Calliope’s seat. “Thanks for the ride, babe.”

“Of course!” Chirps a cheery voice from behind the veil, and Jake turns his head before he can catch a glimpse of Callie’s face when she turns to smile at Roxy. He’s heard plenty of tales about gazing upon the face of a love god, and none of them end well for mortals. Instead, he glances out the window- and then down at his lap, trying to prevent the immediate nausea that welled up from glancing out at the landscape whizzing by. Of course it’s magic, there are  _ two gods  _ sitting adjacent to him, why wouldn’t they travel in a magic carriage at ridiculous speeds?

Not even five minutes later, the carriage slows to a stop, and Jake lifts his head from where he’d been resting, trying to calm his nerves before meeting the god of the sun face to face. ‘Dirky’ is what Roxy had called him, so maybe just ‘Dirk’ was his name- but would it be appropriate to call a god their name to their face? And especially a god like Dirk, as powerful and intimidating and absolutely pants-shittingly frightening to face in person- no, it wouldn’t be a good idea. Maybe just ‘sir,’ or ‘your majesty.’ When Jake steps out of the carriage, his boots meet the dry, cracked ground of the farm that he’d stolen from- though this time, he’s inside the gate without having to break in. He swallows thickly and follows Roxy down a stone path, wringing his wrists in an anxious attempt to soothe himself.

* * *

As rightfully pissed as Dirk is, seated on his throne in the middle of his crumbling judiciary building and fuming about having to do this right after getting home, he can’t help but feel a little more put at ease when Roxy steps in, walking right up to his chair with more ease than anyone else dares to. The only reason that he’s’ here now is because he’d just gotten back from driving the chariot around, and hadn’t even had the time to change clothes or bathe yet. The accused, the  _ thief, _ is escorted in by the guards that Roxy had entrusted him to, and he sits in the seat of the dock, the jury boxes empty save for two figures- one in red, seated naturally in the top of the box, and one in blue, hanging upside-down from the top of the box. The thief doesn’t look their way- of course not, if a god chooses to disguise their presence then they won’t be noticed at all- but also refuses to look Dirk in the eye. 

“Jacob Bartholomew English,” Roxy starts, and Jake startles, glancing up at her and still avoiding Dirk’s sharp gaze. “You have been accused of breaking and entering, theriocide without knowledge or consent of the owner, and consuming the meat of a sacred animal. How do you plead?” Dirk can see the way Jake takes a breath, his fingers tightening and letting go of the wooden railing on either side of him. 

“Guilty,” he says, plain as day, his gaze finally shifting to Dirk’s. “I did not ask for a favor, nor did I pray for a blessing or for help, taking it into my own hands to steal from his sovereign grace. My motive was just, however, for I did such an act to keep my sister from dying of the plague. My grandmother had died of the plague just last year, and… and I couldn’t bear to lose her, too.” Dirk holds Jake’s gaze until his green eyes break away from his own orange ones, sighing as he shifts under the burning eyes of the sun god.

“Your motive does not excuse your crime,” Dirk speaks up, his voice cold and cutting through the tense silence. “However, I’ll need to discuss the punishment of your crime with my sister before deciding what to do with you. For now, you are dismissed. I’ll call you back in once I’ve decided. Now get the fuck out of my sight,” he waves a hand at Jake, and the guards swiftly escort him out of the courtroom before either of them can say another word. Dirk fixes Roxy with a knowing look and sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“He was kinda cute, huh?” She immediately teases, earning a glowering look from Dirk as he sighs again. “Listen, Dirky, I know you’re mad. But look. Listen to me, here, you know I’m a good judge of character. He’s a little liar and an absolute coward, but he’s pretty loyal and hardworking when he actually has his head on right. I say you give him a few years of community service to straighten him out, yeah?”

“Wh-  _ community service?  _ Are you asking me to make him a- a what, a handmaiden?” Roxy just snickers, not helping her case at all, and Dirk scowls into his hand. “Listen, I know you like partying and fun and all that, but I can’t let people think I’m soft. If I go easy on him, then people will think I’ll just let anyone get away with anything.” He peeks through his fingers at Roxy, who fixes him with a wide grin, and he knows that he’s already lost. “Fine, fine, fine, whatever. Ten years of service. That’s it.”

“Four years, and three months off.”

“Eight years, one week off.”

“Six years and a day off a year to visit his sister.”   
“...Seven years and a day off to visit his sister. He’s related to Mrs. Harley who passed away, right? The one that built Hal’s prototype for me. So there’s an excuse to give him a light sentence, easy enough.”

Roxy snorts, laying her arm around his shoulder and tousling his hair, “Sure, mr. hardass. Maybe this thief is the one to fulfill Rose’s prophecy for you, huh? Stole from you once, might steal your heart next time.” Dirk just shakes his head in disbelief, motioning for the guards at the doors of the room to let Jake back in. He seems even more nervous than before, if that’s possible, but he’s putting on a brave face to hide it. That’s at least a little admirable.

“Jacob English,” Dirk starts, before getting cut off by the thief himself. “Just Jake is fine, um, your majesty.” Dirk raises an eyebrow and Jake withers under his gaze, still failing to maintain eye contact for more than a full 60 seconds. “Jake, then. You’ll have plenty of time to figure out how to properly pay me back, since Roxy convinced me not to just simply kill you. Your sentence is seven years of servitude, with one day off per year that you can go back home and see your sister- that day being the Candlenights holiday. You’ll be housed with the rest of the servants and briefed on what your position will be once I determine where to put you. That’s all, unless you have any questions.”

Jake blinks in surprise, clearing his throat and fixing his posture. “I, um. Thank you, sir, I… I’ll do my best. I don’t have any questions, at least for now. And thanks, Roxy, you really are a real one,” he smiles weakly up at her, looking faint, and is escorted right back out of the courthouse. “Sir,” Dirk mumbles, putting his face in his hands, “why is he calling me ‘sir,’ that’s so fucking weird. ‘ _ Sir,’ _ ” he groans, more flustered than he’d care to admit, and Roxy snickers beside him and pats his shoulder. She gives a thumbs up to Dave and John, who are goofing off in the jury boxes, and Dave shoots her a thumbs up in return before getting knocked flat on his ass.

* * *

Upon being escorted out of the courthouse, Jake follows the two guards down a heavily worn down path towards the dormitory-looking place that he’d seen from afar when he first visited. When he sees it up close, it’s more of a quaint two-story apartment complex curved in a horseshoe shape around the large farm house in the center of the path. That must be Dirk’s house, then- the one that he spends so much time alone in after he comes home from driving the chariot around the world all day. “How lonely,” he mutters under his breath, a little put-out when he sees how few people are actually out and about during the evening. He knows that people live here, servants that work the farm while their patron god is gone, but it’s a little disappointing to not be greeted when he’s so rudely shoved into an empty room.

Room number 412, right between 411 and 414. Why 413 isn’t there is lost to him, and he just sighs, glad that they’d let him keep his small bag of things with him when they put him in his room. “Well!” He says to the empty room, clasping his hands together, “time to tidy up and make this more of a home, shall we? If I’ll be living here for seven years, I may as well make this feel more like a place I’ll be comfortable living in.” It’s a fairly small room with no kitchen or any place to store food- only a nightstand, armoire, and bed- all a little  _ too _ clean, he thinks.

He unpacks his bag and organizes the contents on his new bed- a medical kit full of sewing supplies, bandages, alcohol (for medical purposes), and gauze, twenty-two pristine white candles, a pack of matches, eight pieces of colored chalk, a two meter long rope, two carabiners, and four iron hooks (just in case he needed to climb somewhere), two quills, one inkwell, thirty-two pieces of parchment for letters, four apples, a short loaf of pumpkin bread, and a flask half full of purified water. Not many things, since he thought he might have died sometime soon, but it’s the essentials. Or, at least, what the ‘essentials’ were that he remembered at least.

No window in the room allows light to get in, the only light available to him from the oil lamp that was burning on the nightstand before he got there. Hopefully he’ll get a letter from Jade after Roxy tells her how everything went down and then he can send her a letter back as well so it feels a lot less lonely. At the very least, he thinks, neither of them are dead (yet) or are dying/will ever die of the plague. Maybe now he can find out more about the sun god and where the plague came from as he lives here.

At the very least, it’ll be quite interesting on all sides. 


End file.
